


The Memory of a Ghost

by Jessie_Bee13



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28413393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessie_Bee13/pseuds/Jessie_Bee13
Summary: Ghostbur angst.Read along as Ghostbur undertakes the painful process of remembering his passed life in L'Manburg, his friends and family.Pt 1. L'ManburgPt 2. TommyPt 3. TubboPt 4. FundyPt 5. PhilzaPt 6. Techno
Kudos: 10





	1. L'Manburg

**Author's Note:**

> If you prefer reading on wattpad it also on their under the same username.

The night was long, but never cold. Ghosts don't feel the cold. Ghosts don't feel much of anything. I suppose that comes with dying, there had to be some after effects minus the floating, random spurts of invisibility and the throbbing pain in your head. Not to mention melting every time it rained or snowed. 

The first few days were the worst. Memories that couldn't even be considered memories flood back into your head in waves of agonising pain and discomfort. Blurred faces and far away sentences taunting you like unsolvable riddles. The laughter of the past seemed unchanged in my mind but the considerable amount of unresolved pain just didn't seem worth it.

I wanted to remember. I really did. So far the only thing I could make out amongst the overgrowth of distant jokes and tangles of names I can't remember, was one thing. A flag. Blue, white and red with a black semi circle to the left side. There were three crosses placed horizontally across the middle. The one in the semi circle was yellow where as other two were red. 

A word always seemed to accompany this flag. A word that felt so familiar on my tongue but I could never say it. It was almost as though the word was fighting against me, angry and unforgiving. As though I had long lost the rights to the word and I needed to somehow prove my worth.

A few more days passed and my memories weren't becoming any more bearable. However I do remember phrases now. Quotes almost. But the voices that spoke them were not mine. A females voice was present, an angry mass of yelling and for some reason, singing.

The song hurt to remember but there was a familiar claim on the words. A similar feeling to that of the word which could not be said. It hurt horribly but I pushed. I pushed untill words sat in place and guitar chords came naturally to my fingers.

I carefully picked up the guitar which was laying on a crafting table in the small hut I had made in the middle of nowhere, sat on my bed, and started playing. Words fell seamlessly out of my mouth, comforting and warm.

"I heard there was a special place,  
Where men could go and emancipated,  
The brutality and tyranny of their rulers.

Well this place is real,  
We needn't fret with Wilbur  
-ø--ý, T---ø  
F*ck --ət  
It's a very big place,  
Not blown up L'm-"

I stopped.

Even when sang the word still refused to leave the confines of my own mind. Even more concerning were the three names that were missing from the song. I knew they were names but still could not remember them.

I divised that two of the names must have been my friends at some point. But the third was a person i seemed to not have like.

Suddenly, pain shot through my head like an unwelcome guest, growing immensely under the pressure of thousands of other memories threatening to all spill out at once. If a man could die twice, that would deffinately have pushed me over the edge. But it didn't.

I was kneeling on the floor now. Guitar discarded on the bed behind me. My heart ached terribly as two names fell into place.

"Eret... and Dream" I relayed.

Two pictures formed in my head now. A man. A tall man. He sported sunglasses that covered his eyes and a familiar blue and red uniform.

The seccond was of a man in a hoodie, he was also tall. Probably around the same height as myself but his face was hidden behind a white porcelain mask that sported a smiling face. 

"Bad men" was the first thing I said after my head stopped buzzing.  
"F*ck Eret" were the words I had missed form the song then followed with  
"I would rather die, than give into you and join your SMP" which must have been said to Dream.

I grimaced at the thaught of the two, standing back up now to lay myself comfortably along my bed. Ghosts cannot sleep and I knew that but the comfort of a bed was all I needed. Wrapping my arms around myself I hummed the tune of the forgotten symphony.

I got up the next day and opened my door to see that it was still raining. I had been stuck I'm my shack for three days with nothing to do. This allowed the painful memories a perfect opening to dox my brain with images that I could not decifer and the voices of people I knew but no longer remember. 

Another memory surfaced that day when I was sat staring at my oaken wall. I had crafted a button out of boardem and placed in on my wall. I clicked it aimlessly untill pain spiraled through my entire body from a singular point on my chest.

Suddenly blood started rushing from a deep gash in my stomach and I scrambled back letting out a scream of agony. It hurt. But how? I'm a ghost?! I cant feel pain?! I let out another shriek as everything around me began to explode. But is wasnt actually exploding. It just sounded like it. 

The invisible TNT seemed endless. Stretching over miles and miles of land. I squeezed my eyes shut in the hope of shutting out the horrible explosions. That didn't work however as I could now also hear screams. About a dozen far away yells and agonized screeches of pain. 

And then it was over.

The blood on my front was gone and the angry explosions no longer penetrated the loud downpour of peacefull rain falling on the earth outside of the small hut I now called home. But this wasnt home. Someone destroyed my home. L'Manburg was my home. I should be there. But I cant be there. Not yet. There is so much I still dont know, so much I dont remember.

I pulled myself up against the wall behind me and dragged my knees close to where the imaginary wound had been moments before and cried. I cried for what seemed to be hours. Hours turned into days and days turned into exhausting nights and the wasting of time became a familiar presence in my futile new life.

I stumbled down a mountain at one point. It was a beautiful place. A singular river ran untill the render distance cut it off in a blur of colours. There were thousands of different coloured flowers all growing peacefully without a care in the world. But there was one flower that was clear. I had never seen these flowers before in the few memories I recalled of my life yet there was a familiarity around the flowers that gave off the air that only i could see them.

Gently I picked up a flower. It rose seamlessly out of the earth and as soon as it had left the ground another grew in the exact place I had just plucked the other from. I took the flower home and placed it in my crafting table. Only one thing could be made from this flower but I decided against disfiguring the beautiful plant and instead placed it in a flower pot on the windowsill.

The next few days seemed aimless. I explored the terrain but could not bring myself to go back to L'Manburg. I hat to know more first. I had to remember the names and the voices and most of all my friends. But I'm not going to give up. No matter how painful the journey of remembering is I want to go through it. I have to go through it.

I have an unknown drive that makes everything seem worth it. Somehow I knew that eventually it would all be worth it. This drive would pushed me forward, I could feel it. I doesn't matter that I dont know what it is. All that matters is it will get me there. I know it will get me to the point that I can go back. Back to where it all started. 

Back to L'Manburg.


	2. Tømmy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is how wilbur remembered tommy!

Memories of L'Manburg were now enough to help get me through the now not so stressful days. Remembering wasnt painful anymore, at least the good memories weren't. However, every time I dug too far into the maze of forgotten images my head began to ache.

It wasnt too long before I started placing names to faces. The first person I remembered was a boy. A sixteen year old. Tommy.

He was tall but still shorter than me with brilliant blue eyes and blonde hair. His trademark shirt was a white tee with red sleeves and he was always following me around like a little brother.

The first memory I regained of tommy was of him calling me. I had answered the call and the first thing he had said was:  
"Wilbur! Wilbur! Good news and bad news. Good news is I've got you a woman! Bad news, she's American."  
I had doubled over with laughter instantly.

The seccond thing I remembered was tommy telling me that whatever happened, he would be by my side. But the thing is, I dont remember what happened... but that sentence alone was enough to light up a weapon in my head that pierced through the veil and unleash every single good memory i have of tommy instantly.

Image after image I watched as the "boy" I believed i had finally recognised, was actually a man. A strong willed, arogant, bossy and hard headed, sixteen year old man. All I could feel now was pride for the friend I felt was close enough to me to be my younger brother and at this point I do not care about the bad memories.

No matter how horrid they may be I promised myself that if I ever find out that I had hurt him I would never forgive myself, dead or alive. The bad memories would not swade me from protecting him, I would make sure of it. 

I now knew from memory that Tommy had stuck with me through everything. Good and bad this boy was prepared to fight everyone and everything in his path if it meant his friends were ok. He stayed with me because I was his friend. We were family.

We are family.

If I can help him I will. I will follow him as he had followed me. A protector and friend... a brother. 

My thaughts were broken by an instant stinging feeling coming from my eyes. I braught my hands up to my face instantly numbing the pain I had felt as I cried out in pain. I had began to cry but it was painful.

I had been happy moments before and I was supposed to be happy now but instead a seering pain spiraled through my skull. Crying was painfull. It was like rain and I had began to melt me so I pulled my sleeves up over my hands and wiped the tears away eager to stop the pain.

My hands dropped from my face, my breathing heavy as I opened my eyes. Things were blurry but I could see faintly a blue something shining through the blurred bage colours of my house.

I blinked a few times allowing the objects around me to come into focus. The flower I had picked days before was glowing. Its petals were shining brilliantly and reflecting off the window behind it. 

And then just as the glow had started... it stopped.

The flower was deffinately an interesting find and it had instantly made me feel better. It had allowed me to feel better about my predicament with water and gave me something else to focus on.

This bizarre flower clearly had something special going on with it and yet I still knew nothing about it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou for reading this and I hope you enjoyed


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